Dead Wake Holy Locust

In the shadow of an ashen banner raised
And a thousand voices sound their songs of praise
The frail hands grasping at their binds
As darkened eyes weep for empty shrines

Under the flag flown over a dead wake
Behold the ghost of crow
Under the cross on unceded soil
Your white robes show
So heavy lies the hand

In a slow dive into an empty well
And the bodies unburied right just where they fell
The dеath flag burn atop it's mast
And all land bare in it's shadow cast

Under the flag flown ovеr a dead wake
Behold the ghost of crow
Under the cross on unceded soil
Your white robes show
So heavy lies the hand